


It's Been Us Since the Beginning

by yokomya



Series: Let's Make Believe [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5x01, Canon Rewrite, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Pack Feels, Post-Nogitsune
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:58:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4365686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yokomya/pseuds/yokomya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles grits his teeth and grasps Scott’s shoulders, waits for Scott to raise his head so they were eye level. There's nothing he can say to take away whatever kind of sorrow Scott's feeling, any of the sadness he's built up inside.</p><p>“We’ll get through this, Scotty,” Stiles tells him. It’s all he can get out, the only comfort he has to offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Been Us Since the Beginning

 

_DH_

 

The initials could be anyone really, there’s no telling what name those two letters spelled out. Drew Hartford? David Hamilton maybe? It could be any name.

Stiles has his marker held up to the bookshelf and his bottom lip is almost splitting between his teeth as he prepares himself to write his own initials. He's ready to scribble the letters fast but he can’t. He can't stop looking at the other signature, the other senior, thinking about the person who had to have been standing in this same spot before him, years ago.

He rubs his eyes, tries to pretend he's fine, and his marker squeaks against the bookshelf as he gets the vandalizing over with. He then hands the expo to Lydia.

Lydia doesn’t take very long to write her own initials, neat and pretty, and then Kira goes, putting hers down directly underneath. After Kira, Malia hovers the marker, ready to write but she does like Stiles, she takes a minute. Stiles notices the hesitance in her stiff hand, how she struggles to put her own name down. After a couple of thoughts to herself, Malia smiles and comes to a decision. She etches down ‘M’ and ‘T’ before moving aside so Scott could have his turn.

They’re all watching him, all damp from the rain outside, all thinking about this being their last year and how this moment won’t last forever.

When Scott finishes putting down his initials, he pauses. Stiles watches the way Scott’s eyes glaze over, how his body language changes to something less strong. He’s seen that look. It's what happens when Scott’s mask slips, when he crumbles a little against his will, unable to keep his appearance up in front of his pack. It doesn’t take much guessing of why because then Scott writes two more initials by his own.

 

_AA_

 

If Stiles had werewolf senses he could probably pinpoint the moment that Lydia’s breath hitches and would probably hear Scott’s heartbeat slowing in his chest. He doesn’t have powers though, so instead, he raises his eyes and he keeps his voice steady.

“She would be with us,” he says, his heart starting to break as he watches Scott give the marker to the next senior in line. Lydia’s exterior isn’t far from falling apart either but she maintains herself and swallows before adding her own words.

“She still is.”

And they leave the library, all drowning in their own thoughts. They walk together, mixed feelings of accomplishment, anticipation of the future, memories of the past following behind them.

As they descend the stairs, Stiles catches Lydia's eye, gives her a reassuring rub on her back, gentle, just a reminder that they were still here and that they couldn't forget that. He wants to say it but it's too hard so he swivels his head to the rest of the group.

Kira and Malia understand even if they don’t _really_ understand. 

Stiles can see the way Kira makes Scott laugh and smile, how hard she tries to connect with him emotionally. She doesn't know him as well as Stiles, not even as well as Lydia probably, but she’s amazing, a good person, and she's trying. 

Even with Kira attempting to raise his spirits, Stiles isn’t convinced that Scott is okay, not with the way he sort of sways when he walks and the way he pinches the bridge of his nose briefly, an effort to keep his emotions from flooding out. Stiles has seen that before too, that slip up of Scott’s, how his regrets peek out a little, how Scott wishes he could do something to fix things that _can't_ be fixed.

Outside, the sky is still gray from the rain, still swimming with clouds and promises of more showers, but they all go to the track field because they don’t want the night to be over. There are other seniors hanging out there, enjoying the senior bash together, some people even brought music, others are dancing, some are smoking under the bleachers.

The pack sit together for a while and talk, joke around, pretend to be normal teenagers who haven’t sacrificed a normal childhood to save the world.

It’s unspoken but none of them want to leave at all. They go as far as to start using items of clothing as blankets so they can lay out on the grass. It’s nice, being surrounded by friends who genuinely care about you, who actually relate to you and want to spend this kind of time with you.

Even as the hours tick and they’re growing tired, nobody stands up to go home.

Kira is the first to fall asleep, on Scott’s jacket. She looks so peaceful, like she isn't all that worried about anything they have to face soon, no tests, no monsters, she lives in the now.

Lydia goes next and she curls up by Kira, most likely because she's too tired to care, or because she's thinking about her former best friend. Seeing her initials, it was probably just too much for her.

Stiles finds it funny and sad. Years ago, Lydia wouldn’t be caught dead spending a night with Scott and Stiles, definitely wouldn’t be caught dead laying down on dewy grass.

He takes a peek at Scott and knows what he’s thinking. Scott might be looking at Kira with Lydia but he's seeing Allison laying there instead. After all, Lydia was her best friend and they would be curling up next to each other if she was here.

Stiles didn’t know his heart could break twice in one night.

Malia doesn’t go to sleep but she does leave them to use the restroom inside the school and when she does, Stiles wastes no time trying to read Scott’s mood. The laughter of the group is lost in the stars and it's just Scott and Stiles now.

Scott doesn’t meet Stiles’ eye, he gets up and mumbles something about taking a piss too, but he goes in the direction of the woods instead of the school. It doesn’t take a genius to know he just wants to be alone for a second. Stiles lets him until the more selfish part of himself comes to the surface. I mean, he's smart but he’s no genius, right?

He goes after Scott, across the field, saying nothing and everything all at once. He knows Scott senses him and Stiles appreciates that his best friend doesn’t tell him off or stop him from following. They just walk together, Stiles only a few steps behind.

They reach the outskirts of the woods by the field and Stiles recalls the many nights with Scott, nights spent together among the trees.

Nights when they were kids, before everything was complicated, staying out way past their curfews, chasing invisible monsters, jumping into dirty streams, just being kids. A time when they were free.

Then they got older and Stiles didn’t have a mom and Scott didn’t have a dad. Then the woods became a sacred place where they could find solace in hanging out, both secretly avoiding the emptiness of their homes. At that time, Stiles and Scott realized that they needed each other, a lot more than they could put into words.

“Gonna watch or what?” Scott jokes when they actually get to the woods, hand going to his zipper. Stiles wants to laugh but he doesn’t. He’s too busy figuring out that undertone in Scott's voice. Scott laughs a little and makes way for a bush.

“Suit yourself, bro.”

“Scott.”

Any plan to keep quiet is completely ruined now. Scott doesn't unzip himself, he stops, he turns around, expectant, giving off that innocent look, like he doesn’t understand what's supposed to happen from here. Stiles rubs his hands over his sleeves and shakes his head.

“I’m not the most compassionate person alive, not the most empathetic,” he starts, hoping he can make sense, “Certainly not the most experienced at giving advice, no doubts there, but I care about you, Scott, I know that.”

Scott seems confused by the sudden confession but he listens intently to where this is going.

“You know, you-” Stiles stops because he has to calm himself down, has to make sure not to get too worked up, “You’re just- you’re so good at saving people, Scott. You’ve saved a lot of people.”

“Thank you?” Scott breaks out, looking mildly happier than a second ago but still confused. He probably isn’t used to Stiles being so forward about his good points and that kind of hurts. Scott deserves to know all of his good points.

“You know when my mom died and you gave me your favorite comic? I still have it,” Stiles blurts, kicking a few damp leaves with his shoe. He tucks his thumbs into his pockets and kind of curses himself because that was a pretty lame way to go about this. He coughs and keeps going.

“When Kira was the new girl at school, you went out of your way to make her feel like she wasn’t lonely, remember?” he tries, voice light and serious. “And it was you who gave Malia her humanity again, that was you, Scott. Guess what else you did? You ah- You let Isaac stay at your house, you know, when Derek kicked him out. Okay, so that was more of your mom but-”

He shrugs his shoulders a little, letting that sentence die out. It's becoming painfully more and more obvious that speeches aren't his forte. 

“Speaking of ah- of Derek," Stiles stutters, "You gave him the benefit of the doubt from the beginning, you gave him a chance. I didn’t do that, most people wouldn’t do that, but _you_ did. You’re always seeing the good in people, always preparing to sacrifice yourself for them. You saved me from the nogitsune, Scott, I’ll never forget that.”

Scott raises his eyebrows at Stiles, because while he’s glad to hear that Stiles took notice of this stuff, he still doesn't understand where it's coming from. Stiles doesn’t know _how_ to make him understand so he steps forward and inhales.

“Allison would be telling you the same thing,” he murmurs, “You saved her too.”

The air grows thicker and Scott’s eyes haze over again, hearing her name. His first love, the girl that died in his arms, the girl he _didn’t_ save, at least that’s how he must see it, Stiles knows that. Scott blames himself for Allison’s death, Stiles can figure that much out.

“If you want to blame someone for Allison, blame me,” Stiles says lowly.

“No,” Scott counters, visibly shaken, “It was nobody’s fault.”

“I’m not convinced you believe that."

Scott doesn’t respond at first, he lowers his eyes, thinks to himself. So Stiles goes forward again and reaches a hand out to touch Scott’s shoulder. He knows that if he had the wolf’s powers, he would have the ability to absorb pain from Scott, absorb some of his heartache.

It isn't fair. 

Why did Scott have to bear so much pain, have to soak up the grief of others? Nobody could do that for Scott, nobody could take in his pain with skin to skin contact. 

Stiles grits his teeth and grasps Scott’s shoulders, waits for Scott to raise his head so they were eye level. There's nothing he can say to take away whatever kind of sorrow Scott's feeling, any of the sadness he's built up inside.

“We’ll get through this, Scotty,” Stiles tells him. It’s all he can get out, the only comfort he has to offer.

He remembers his conversation with Malia earlier, the one in the rain before they entered the school. How he was spilling out his own doubts and worries about what’s to come for them. High school would end, friendships would die, people would move on. That’s just the cycle, the natural order of things.

Scott and Allison didn't last, maybe Scott and Kira won't, even Stiles and Malia might part ways. It was all so gray, the future was so unexpected, especially for them.

The werewolf bite, the kanima, the alpha pack, the nogitsune, the deadpool. . . They faced so much already. Was it so hard to believe that they could last through graduation or a summer or college? Could they face it together, the way they've always done?

While these thoughts race through his head, Stiles gets caught up in a daydream but he’s quickly brought down to reality when Scott steps forward and closes the space between them. He hugs Stiles and it’s tight, like Scott is afraid of letting go.

Stiles returns it without a second of hesitation. He holds onto Scott, moves into the pressure of his arms, gives what little condolence he could and puts his own worries aside. Scott still isn't crying, or at least he’s doing an awesome job at hiding it if he is, that much Stiles notes.

The embrace feels intimate, feels closer than their usual ones, it's something they’ve both needed for a long time. All the bad times, the low moments, ones together, ones apart, it's as if a thousand suppressed memories are being brought back. They’re saying so much without speaking, because they really don't have to.

Stiles almost asks Scott if this is going to last, almost tells him that he’s scared it won’t. He wants to but he can't.

Scott and Allison were supposed to be forever and they weren't.

What if Stiles and Scott won't be either?

Stiles readjusts and he grabs on to Scott’s jacket, squeezes his eyes shut, on the verge of melting down. Scott buries his face into Stiles’ shoulder and says nothing, doesn't mention the way Stiles is shaking or that he himself is going weak in the knees.

Maybe they’re thinking the same thing, maybe they’re silently crying into each other, letting go of the frustration and pain and anger welled up inside. Everything sucked so much sometimes, it was hard to remember why they kept going. Tomorrow and the next day and the one after that, Scott would protect his friends and Stiles would solve the problems, and they would continue to do that over and over as long as they needed to.

Allison is gone, Derek is gone, Isaac is gone, Aiden is gone, Chris Argent is gone. 

People don't stick around forever, people don't always survive, things aren't always going to stay the same. That's life.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Stiles hears himself say.

It’s strange though, it doesn’t really make sense to say that now. He hasn’t even told Scott that he’s afraid of losing what they have. It’s not much of a promise, it’s not something he _can_ promise, their future is too unpredictable, but it’s all he has.

Scott nods against him and breathes out a sigh of relief, like that was all he needed to hear for a long time.

“Good," he replies, his body relaxing.

That hopeful tone being back in Scott's voice lifts some of the weight from Stiles’ chest and he closes his eyes before exhaling too.

There would always be reason to worry about where they were going, about what was around the corner. For now, however, there was one thing they were both sure of.

It was Stiles and Scott since the beginning and it will be Stiles and Scott until the end.

 


End file.
